


An Tuil

by orphan_account



Category: Supernatural
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-12-01
Updated: 2008-12-01
Packaged: 2017-10-11 18:34:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 649
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/115629
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean forgets himself. Castiel doesn't.</p>
            </blockquote>





	An Tuil

**Author's Note:**

> Beta'd by [](http://hansbekhart.livejournal.com/profile)[**hansbekhart**](http://hansbekhart.livejournal.com/). This was inspired by the time I almost got dragged out into the Gulf of Mexico in a Banana Boat. True story. _An Tuil_ is Scottish Gaelic for "The Flood".

  
It is impossible to ignore the full weight of an angel's gaze, because (as usual) Castiel doesn't know when to stop, and his stare cleaves flesh and bone and soul, and Dean burns under his scrutiny. There's no point lying to Castiel, he finds, because the angel is never taken in by it and he doesn't much seem to _care_.

So, for the first time in his entire life, Dean doesn't lie. It's hard to be honest when you've been a conman for twenty years, but under Castiel's gaze and Castiel's _silence_ , Dean begins to let go- of Sam's needs (Sam will always need him, even if he doesn't realize it, because that's what _family_ is) and his father's guilt and his mother's anger and the fight against the encroaching darkness.

(Castiel fascinates Dean.)

Castiel can hold back the dark, sometimes. He can shoulder Dean's burden, just for a little while. It's his fucking job, isn't it? Angel. Soldier. _Good_. Dean sometimes has trouble reconciling Castiel's otherness, his not-humanness with his goodness- with the fact that there is something out there that's not trying to _eat kill destroy incinerate avenge_ \- it tilts Dean's whole world on it's side. So Dean watches Castiel.

Somewhere along the line, fascination turns into _want_. Dean watches Castiel for a different reason, wonders what it would be like-

Dean forgets himself. Castiel, though- Castiel may doubt, but he does not forget.

(Dean dreams, perhaps.)

There's no beach, no waves rolling into the land. The world drops out from beneath his feet and he's surrounded by cold water, with sea salt sharp in his mouth. Dean wonders briefly if salt water is sanctified, but then the sea rumbles around him and rips at his body, as if it is a living _thing_ trying to drag him down. The sea is strong but Castiel is stronger. His arms anchor Dean, hold him above the depths and never falter.

Castiel is light and he stands on the water, _in_ the water, as certainly as he stands on land. "Dean," he says. His breath is warm on Dean's face, his lips brush Dean's ear. "Look around, Dean Winchester."

Look around.

  
 _Sea_ is a convenient word; it suggests that there is an end or a contour to this water; that this is something easily crossed and corralled and understood by man. There is nothing here but black water, slipsliding away as far as the eye can see. There is no land or horizon and it _shakes_ Dean (falling is falling whether it's an airplane or the sea). He clings to the angel and is small again.

"This," Castiel says to him, "is why we are fighting." He threads his fingers through Dean's hair. Dean can't ignore the icy, greedy water lapping at his chest, slapping his back and tugging on his feet. He does not fear it (although if Castiel were to drop him now-), but he tightens his grip on Castiel's shoulders anyways.

(It's a long way down.)

"Save the whales, huh?" he says. His voice is lost on the wind.

"We can't be like this, Dean. The last time-" Castiel's voice catches, and it's disconcertingly human. Dean leans his face into the warmth of Castiel's shoulder. "The last time we were down here, some of my brothers- _lusted_ \- after humans." He touches Dean's head. "They lusted after humans and fell from grace. Azazel was one of them."

Dean _wants_. He knows he shouldn't, but he does.

"Azazel was bound hand and foot," Castiel says, "and cast into the darkness, and a deluge came upon the whole earth, and destroyed everything. It can't happen again." The water swells and ebbs around them.

Castiel whispers this last into Dean's ear; the waves of the sea are hushed. "Not even for you."

He kisses Dean, just briefly, and Dean wakes up to sound of the tide crashing upon the shore.

 

 

 **_  
_ **

 


End file.
